


This Side of Paradise

by annie1017



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: 1920sparis, M/M, writer/muse!au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-18
Updated: 2016-03-18
Packaged: 2018-05-26 07:40:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6229525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annie1017/pseuds/annie1017
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jongin pens lines of romance in the city of love and Sehun is his muse. (1920s!au)</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Side of Paradise

When Jongin takes his muse out, he likes to go the whole nine yards. Dinner, wine, jazz music. A walk under the moonlight along the Seine, ending in passionate sex in his studio loft. After all, that is what Paris is all about, isn’t it? Romance, carefree recklessness, and a touch of class is, in his mind, Paris in a nutshell.  
  
They are at La Closerie des Lilas this time, in a cafe and bar near Place d'Enfer, and Jongin has just asked for the most expensive wine on the menu. “This _Chateau Lafite Rothschild_ is spectacular, worth every penny that I paid,” Jongin declares upon tasting the wine. “Sehun ah, give it a try.”  
  
Sehun brings his own wine glass up to his lips and takes a tentative sip before nodding in agreement. Jongin beams, before digging into his appetizer.  
  
Their relationship has always been mutually symbiotic, Jongin thinks. Jongin finds inspiration where Sehun finds companionship.  
  
Sehun is an international student at la Sorbonne, the University of Paris, currently majoring in dance. Jongin is a writer who finds the scenes of Paris far more inspiring than anything in the drab New York City streets. They had met on the street, where Sehun was putting on an impromptu performance with some of his school friends. Jongin, passing by, was immediately entranced.  
  
That was almost seven months ago, but something about the pale boy still captivated him. Was it the sharp, jutting collarbones? Or the thin lips that are perpetually pursed tight, giving off waves of hostility? Jongin thinks he may never find out what could have prompted him to boldly proposition Sehun in the middle of the street. In retrospect, it was probably not the best of ideas, but Jongin can’t find it in himself to regret any of it.  
  
“You know, I ran into Francis the other day in the Dingo Bar,” Jongin says, straightening up over his _steak au poivre_. Even in Paris, 4000 miles away, he still runs into familiar faces. “He’s working on a delicious new novel and wanted some suggestions from another writer, whom Zelda apparently hates. The man told me that he snuck out through the bathroom window.”  
  
Sehun chuckles over the soft piano music, eyes twinkling. “Zelda seemed to like me when you introduced us.”  
  
“Everyone likes you, Sehunnie,” Jongin replies with a smile.  
  
Sehun at least has the decency to blush.  
  
It starts to rain while they are inside, but by the time they finish their _mousse au chocolat_ , only a light drizzle persists. The passing summer storms leaves Paris with a cool breeze, wet sidewalks, and water droplets hanging from nearby plants.  
  
Jongin takes in the crisp air and exhales.  
  
“Should we go to your place?” Sehun asks uncertainly, stepping out onto the sidewalk behind him. He has made an effort to look nice, dressed in a black suit, white dress shirt, and a classy black tie. The effect is somewhat lessened, however, by the fact that his hair is dyed five different colors.  
  
Jongin thinks it a shame that Sehun looks so good, because he’s going to end up undressing him anyway.  
  
Jongin takes a look at the expensive watch on his wrist and shrugs. “Let’s take a little walk,” he says instead. “Come on.” Although Sehun mutters under his breath that his new shoes are being ruined by the puddles, he follows nevertheless.  
  
“The city looks the most beautiful after a rain storm,” Jongin muses as they start off toward the river. “Everything smells invigorating, as if the rain is reviving Paris.”  
  
“Sure,” Sehun chuckles. When Jongin gets too poetic, he just chooses to always agree.  
  
They end up at Victoire Square, next to the stone fountain that contains a statue of Poseidon, the god of the sea. Jets of water shoot up at odd intervals, and blue lights light up the edges, illuminating the coins at the bottom of the fountain.  
  
Jongin watches as Sehun silently pulls out a five centime copper coin from his pocket and clutches it, his eyes closed. The blue light gives him an ethereal look, and Jongin can’t help but reach out and tuck a piece of the younger boy’s hair behind his ear for him. Sehun’s eyes snap open in surprise, and there is something unreadable in them, or maybe just something that Jongin is unwilling to read.  
  
“What did you wish for?” he asks softly.  
  
Sehun’s voice catches in his throat. “It’s a secret,” he mutters, before tossing the coin into the fountain.  
  
  
  
  
  
They barely make it through the door before Sehun has his hands in Jongin’s hair, tugging him closer with a hand on his waist. He lets out a squeak of surprise, but quickly finds his balance again and pushes back just as hard.  
  
Normally, Sehun is not one to take the initiative, so Jongin lets the younger boy take over, just this once. As Sehun presses him into the back of the door, Jongin can’t help but let a whimper escape his lips. The wood is hard and cold against his back, but Sehun’s fingers are soft, tugging his shirt out of his pants and skimming over the flat area of skin just under his navel.  
  
He lets Sehun push him further into his apartment, all the while never breaking their kiss. He tosses the keys onto the kitchen table as they pass through, but Sehun is impatient to continue into the bedroom.  
  
“Why are you so worked up today?” Jongin asks between muffled kisses, seated on the edge of the bed with Sehun perched in his lap, one leg thrown over each thigh.  
  
Sehun just shrugs, eyes clouded with unworded troubles. Instead of replying, he tosses aside Jongin’s dress shirt and leans down to mark kisses along his shoulder blade. Jongin throws his head back as Sehun’s mouth starts to move down his chest, down to circle and lap at a sensitive nipple.  
  
Deciding that Sehun is far too dressed for his liking, Jongin starts unbuttoning Sehun’s shirt with tentative fingers. He pulls the collar out from under the tie before moving the shirt aside completely.  
  
Jongin then wraps his fingers around Sehun’s silk tie and pulls just as Sehun rolls his hips forward, resulting in another groan from both of them. Sehun’s hand comes up to hold Jongin’s jaw again and he ruts into Jongin, searching for friction.  
  
“Pants. Off,” Jongin orders between labored breaths as he flops onto his back.  
  
Sehun moves away just far enough to kick off his pants before attaching himself to Jongin’s side again. With little force, Jongin rolls them over and positions himself over Sehun, clad only in a pair of black silk boxer briefs. For a moment, he just stares down at the boy in front of him, eying him with obvious appreciation.  
  
Squirming, Sehun shoves weakly at Jongin’s chest. “Stop,” he mumbles hoarsely. “Stop staring.”  
  
Jongin blinks before coming back to his senses. He starts at Sehun’s shoulder blades leaves little kisses and licks down Sehun’s pale body. Reaching in between them, he palms Sehun’s growing arousal, earning a low groan from the younger.  
  
The kisses travel down Sehun’s abdomen, and he shudders at the contact of warm lips leaving smoldering trails down his body. Jongin pauses for a moment with a few extra kisses at Sehun’s hip before nuzzling his nose into Sehun’s boxers, already damp from precome.  
  
Sehun gasps, and his hips jerk forward. “Stop teasing,” he says, rather crossly.  
  
Jongin chuckles. He peels away the last layer of fabric hiding away Sehun’s erection and flicks the slit with his finger, drawing another delicious sound from Sehun. Deciding that teasing was not the best idea for the night, Jongin wraps a hand around the base of Sehun’s cock and takes it into his mouth with practiced ease.  
  
Jongin loves the way that Sehun falls apart under his fingers, hair tousled and eyes lidded. At times like this, Sehun oozes beauty, sex, and everything good in this world. His eyes are glassy, back arched off the mattress, and a tongue darts out momentarily to lick his dry lips.  
  
Sehun’s fingers wrap themselves in Jongin’s hair and he pulls, drawing a low groan that only furthers his arousal. Jongin gives Sehun one last lick before moving back up, discarding his own pants and underwear. Sehun’s body is pressed flush against his when he rolls them over again, and Jongin thinks that Sehun’s alabaster skin stands in beautiful contrast to his own tanned body.  
  
Sehun nudges Jongin’s legs open gently and settles himself in between them, trapping Jongin in his arms and connecting their lips together again. The room is suddenly far too hot, and Jongin’s chest heaves when they part to breathe. Sehun’s hands are running all over his body and Jongin feels light headed, as if there is no longer enough air in his studio apartment.  
  
Sehun pulls back far enough to see Jongin’s face, and bites his lip nervously. “...Can I?” he asks.  
  
Jongin nods. Even though he is the one who usually tops, he is never one to discourage Sehun when the younger is in the mood. He wordlessly wraps his legs tighter around Sehun and forces him down again. “Hurry,” Jongin moans into his ear.  
  
From a drawer in the nightstand, Sehun grabs a bottle of lube; Jongin lays back, trying to catch his breath.  
  
When he comes, it is with a guttural groan, back arching off the bed as waves of pleasure course down his body. Sehun reaches his peak only a moment later and he continues his thrusts, slowly riding out his orgasm before collapsing onto the bed. Jongin’s vision swims as he fights to recover, body satiated and covered in a sheen layer of sweat.  
  
When Jongin recovers, he turns his head to the side, but only sees Sehun’s back. The younger boy has turned away and is curled in the fetal position, shying away from his intense gaze. Jongin sees him shiver, and knows exactly what Sehun is thinking.  
  
Sehun likes to cuddle after sex, but knows that Jongin doesn’t. He sees Sehun clasp his hands together in front of his face to avoid the temptation of reaching for the older boy and his heart constricts.  
  
Sehun also likes relationships, but knows that Jongin doesn’t. The only time he had brought it up, Jongin had shot him down with just a casual “it’s not my thing” that had broken Sehun’s heart. In the end, Sehun had come back because he would rather have Jongin’s body but not his heart than not have Jongin at all.  
  
“Sehun ah?” Jongin’s voice breaks the silence, and Sehun flinches a little.  
  
“Sorry, did you want me to leave?” he asks, tonelessly. It is like this a lot now - Sehun is always cold and distant after they have sex. It’s not surprising, Jongin thinks, not at all.  
  
Jongin hears the pain in Sehun’s voice, and feels a stab at his own heart. He coughs, hoping to get rid of the nerves. “I - no, turn around.”  
  
There is a tense beat of silence in which Jongin wonders if Sehun is going to leave after all. Then, with a soft sigh, Sehun shifts and turns to face him. For a brief moment, Jongin sees tears in the dancer’s eyes, but then Sehun blinks and they’re gone, making him wonder if he had imagined them instead.  
  
Sehun is still glistening from the afterglow of sex, and Jongin reaches out to run a finger over his swollen, red lips.  
  
“I’m sending my manuscript to my editors next week. It’s pretty much complete,” he says.  
  
Sehun’s face crumbles. “Oh,” he mutters, eyes closing again.  
  
Jongin sees him biting his lip harshly, and he knows that Sehun is fighting to not break down.  
  
“I’m heading back to the States after,” Jongin adds gently.  
  
“I know,” Sehun replies, and suddenly, his tone is hostile, aggressive. “I just...I knew you were going to leave me one day,” he bursts angrily, throwing an arm over his face to hide his own expression, “I just didn’t think - nevermind.”  
  
Jongin frowns and pulls the arm away. “Think what?” he asks.  
  
For a moment, Sehun looks everywhere but at Jongin, unwilling to answer the question.  
  
“Think what, Sehun ah?” Jongin repeats.  
  
There is another beat of silence before Sehun turns away again. “I didn’t think that it would hurt this much,” he mumbles into the pillowcase.  
  
Jongin freezes, hand halfway out to pull Sehun back.  
  
He has been running from commitments for most of his life. As a writer, he has lived all over the world, and has had lovers in a variety of exotic and beautiful places; yet, there is just something about Oh Sehun.  
  
“Do you - do you want to come with me?” Jongin coughs, feeling his face heat up. “There are some really good dance schools in New York City and I can get you an audition anywhere you want,” he babbles, unable to stop himself.  
  
“Stop getting my hopes up,” Sehun mutters, refusing to turn around.  
  
Jongin bites his lip as he feels his heart clench once again. Sehun has to believe him; he just has to. He takes a deep breath, and decides to ramble on. “I just...I’ve grown rather attached to you these few months since we go out all the time and eat together and stuff and I think I love you.”  
  
“You ...love me?” Sehun asks, surprise evident in his voice. “I swear, Jongin; if you’re just messing with me, I will never forgive you.”  
  
“I’m serious, Sehun ah,” Jongin replies softly. “I just want you to stay by my side forever and - ”  
  
His words are cut off by Sehun, who wraps his arms around Jongin’s waist and pulls their bodies together. “I thought you’d never ask,” he whispers, lips pressed against Jongin’s shoulder.  
  
Maybe, Jongin thinks, it’s high time for him to stop running away, to stop pushing away the most important person in his life. When Sehun smiles, a rarity in itself, Jongin’s whole world feels brighter; Sehun has unknowingly inserted himself as a fixture in Jongin’s life, becoming the very axis that Jongin’s world revolves around.  
  
“I thought relationships aren't your thing,” Sehun teases sleepily, eyes already fluttering closed.  
  
Jongin traces the contours of his face with the pads of his fingers, mesmerized by the way the moonlight from the open window outlines Sehun’s thin lips and angular cheekbones. “Shut up,” he mutters back, tightening his grip around Sehun. Relationships may not normally be his thing, but a relationship with Oh Sehun is a certainly a thing that Jongin is willing to try.


End file.
